


The Last Train

by SleepingReader



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friendship, Gen, Modern Era, Pre-Slash, based on a childrens song, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 08:53:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25468087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepingReader/pseuds/SleepingReader
Summary: There's a horse near the railroad that can only go to sleep when the driver of the last train bids her goodnight.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Roach, Jaskier | Dandelion & Roach
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	The Last Train

Night had fallen a long time ago. Even in this late springtime evening, the sun couldn't keep awake and had set far along the horizon. In the quiet village, the last of the people went to sleep. The chickens went to roost, the cows lay down in the grassy meadow with their calves. The sheep went back to their stables, not enjoying the beginning of the dew on their woolly fur. The last of the lights in one of the houses went out. For someone familiar with the town, it was the light of the resident music teacher, who stayed up late to grade essays, write poems and the occasional song.  
All had gone to sleep.  
Except for someone in the meadow near the railroad tracks. Here, a chestnut brown newborn foal gazed up at the starry sky and whinnied for her mother to wake up and run with her. But her mother snorted in her dreams and turned her head.  
So the foal was up, all alone. All alone in the quiet night, where even the owls had worked overtime the last night and were catching up on sleep.  
She cantered a circle around her meadow, enjoying the grass around her little hooves.  
Suddenly, she shied as she saw a bright light, accompanied with a loud chugging sound come over the hill beyond. Whinnied, and reared up on her unsteady back legs as she saw the light come closer. Suddenly, the light slowed, the sound halting to a gentle chuff. She relaxed. This was nothing new.  
She saw one of the trains, the large metal snakes that had been going past her meadow for as long as she could remember (approximately 5 hours). But there were no people in this train. No faces blurring past. An empty train. Except for one human, sitting in front. He had white hair, as white as her mother's nose. He looked at her as she looked at him. His eyes were a little strange. Like that of the grumpy cat in the barn. A different horse would have gone back to her mother, but she was brave. She felt that she was brave. And she knew that this man meant no harm.  
He passed by more quickly than she could have predicted, humans in their trains always speeding by so fast.  
But as he chugged past, she could see a last glimpse of him. Could hear the words he said to her.  
He tipped his hat, and said 'Goodnight horse'.  
After that experience, she lay down next to her mother and fell asleep. 

Spring turned to summer and to autumn, and the foal grew and grew. She felt her muscles become stronger and stronger. Her coat became glossy and her mane was often braided by little girls from the village. Occasionally, the village's music teacher came by to feed her and her mother apples and stroke their noses.  
And every single night, when everyone had gone to bed, she would stay up and wait for that last train.  
And every single night, the light would come. The train would slow, and she would get to see the man. He would lean slightly out the window, tip his hat and tell her 'goodnight horse'. Only then she would be able to go to sleep. 

Once, the man wasn't in his train. And she couldn't sleep until the next night. 

Once, on a more special occasion, she was joined in her nighttime quiet. The village's music teacher, who fed her apples, had taken a blanket out next to her meadow and was laying on it, drinking a odd smelling liquid and watching the stars shoot their way across the sky. He called them 'comets' and was fine with her standing near him. He even put his blanket closer to her fence and fed her a sugar cube.  
As a reward for that, she let him know when the train came.  
With a soft snort, she walked over to the railroad-side of the fence as the light of the train came over the hill. She saw the white-haired engine driver nod and lessen his speed. He leaned outside and called 'Goodnight horse'. He waved his hat, and she saw him smile.  
Then he sped away once more, and disappeared over the rolling hills. She turned away to go to sleep, and saw the music teacher look at her with tears in his eyes.  
'Magic everywhere, I tell you.' he muttered.  
She let him pat her nose, and then turned to her favourite patch of grass, where she would be able to graze while she napped. 

Months turned to years, and the filly turned into a handsome mare. Someone put a saddle on her and rode her around the paddock. Someone brushed her down. Braided her mane. Fed her oats. And she saw her friend every night. Sometimes, she was joined by the music teacher and sometimes even some of his small students, though they always kept really quiet when the train came. Even the music teacher, with his endless voice would be silent, and would quiet his guitar too. 

One day, there was talk around the market. The merchants would come to town, and with them, a horse auction.  
The horse walked over one morning to a check out a sign that had been put on her fence. Naturally, she couldn't read it, but it was fun to nose at it anyway.  
One of the music students passed her and the sign, read the sign and ran so fast in the opposite direction that she almost started running as well.  
The student came back with the music teacher, who looked at the sign and then at the horse. He sighed. Held out his hand to pet her. Then said something she didn't understand. He sounded sad. She nosed his pockets for sugar cubes. He smiled. Then he seemed to either get an idea or see a predator and he ran away.

The doors to the train station burst open to reveal a sweaty, badly dressed man, his brown hair sticking to his forehead. He was flanked by approximately seven children, one of which was clutching a tuba as if his life depended on it.  
'Where's the driver for the last train? Please, I need to see him!'  
The three train drivers looked up from their game of cards.  
'Lost something?' One asked.  
'No, no, no one's ever on that train. But he's about to lose something if he doesn't come with me right now!'  
'This about a girl or what?' Another asked.  
'Yes! Yes it is!' Jaskier the music teacher yelled at them. The drivers looked at each other, and shrugged.  
The music teacher left the station with a phone number written on an old train ticket. 

A week later, the horse and her mother were bridled and taken to another paddock in the middle of the towns square. Around her, she could see many of the village, including a very nervous looking music teacher.  
Horses would be led around, and people would shout numbers until one man hit a piece of wood with a hammer. Then the horse would be led away.  
Her mother left with a red-haired woman. That was okay. She had not needed her mother in a long time, and the woman had a nice voice.  
Then it was her turn. She was trotted around the little paddock. She heard people shout out numbers, and saw the music teacher look around frantically before he visibly relaxed.  
A low voice shouted out a number, and the hammer hit the wood before anyone else could cut in. The horse stopped, because she knew that voice.  
The crowd parted, and the horse looked towards the one that shouted. The white haired man wasn't wearing his hat, but she recognised him anyway. He walked towards the gate and went inside. The man leading her made to walk her towards him, but she had already started forward, gently tugging her reins out of his hand.  
She trotted towards the man and placed her head on his chest.  
_Hello, man_  
He stroked her neck.  
'Hello horse.'

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This was based on a Dutch lullaby that my mom and dad used to sing for me called De Laatste Trein. Most Dutch people wouldn't recognise it, as it was written by one of my mom's teachers. Still, I hope you liked the story :)


End file.
